


Foam Middle Fingers

by LiberAmans214



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Charlie Bradbury, Balthazar & Castiel Friendship (Supernatural), Balthazar and Gabriel are best friends, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury Being Charlie Bradbury, Dean Winchester is the Ally, Freddie Mercury - Freeform, Gabriel Has a Crush on Sam Winchester, Gay Male Character, Gen, If this fanfic had fanfiction I can tell who all y'all are gonna ship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Little Shit Balthazar (Supernatural), M/M, Mass Kissing, Minor Coming-Out, Multi, Pride Parades, Probably too close, Queen - Freeform, Sabriel being iconic, Self-Discovery, implied Dean and Castiel, meg masters - Freeform, the ship is soft really it's mostly gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 17:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20878052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: Claire spends another minute studying him, but suddenly looks very pleased with whatever conclusion she came to, and springs herself on him, tackling him into a hug. Castiel lets her, wrapping her own hands around her. “Can’t believe it. M’happy for you.”“Is it really unbelievable?” Castiel jokes, as they separate.“No.” Claire looks like she’s thinking about it. “Not really. I don't know, you just didn’t seem very -” Her voice trails off.“Gay?” Castiel offers.“Yeah, but just in the being-happy sense.” Claire tells him frankly, and Castiel grins at that. Because Claire just basically told him that he wasn’t exactly happy enough to be gay, though the liking the same sex part was apparently all nailed. Shit, Cas liked her. He should spend more time with these few members of his family.***OR***The One in which Castiel comes out, and gets itveryright on the second go-around.





	Foam Middle Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> I had a pretty great time writing this; and do want to explore more "baby-gay" Castiel. Soon, I hope. Do have a good read ~~

Castiel sits on a table for two, alone, slumped against the seat for it’s  _ way  _ too early, as he reads the cheerfully pink flier which was shoved at him, in the hallway. He doesn’t even know who’s been handing them out, but his attention was all properly caught by the bright colors, pretty fonts, and words on top - WANT TO PISS A HOMOPHOBE OFF? WHY WAIT ANYMORE! So he didn’t drop it in a bin like he would’ve, and stuffed it in his bag instead. 

Now, as he rereads the words on top, he lingers. 

He  _ definitely  _ wants to piss off a homophobe. Anybody who hates another human being for their sexual orientation or gender, could take their feelings and shove it where they’ve buried their basic common sense, and to be a tad more poetic, their  _ entire  _ fucking humanity. Hell, he isn’t passionate about too many things, but pissing off a homophobe stands very high on the list.

He takes a sip of the ridiculously bad coffee the college cafeteria sells, but amazingly cheap - which his taste-buds have gotten so used to, that he doesn’t even register how horrible it is.

Castiel Novak mostly realized he was gay at thirteen. Bit of an irony that he knew it for sure, only when he got a girlfriend at sixteen. Hannah Grace found it very difficult to agree with him when he told her, but on his pleading, didn’t breathe a word of it to anyone till he was eighteen, and he came out the traditional way. Knocked on his parents’ bedroom door on a sunday, shuffled in awkwardly while his mother, in a pale pink nightgown, nestled next to his father, who was reading the Sunday paper in bed - and told them that he was gay. 

Tucson had been a good place to  _ finish  _ growing up, gay. Unknowingly, his parents had settled in the most diversity-friendly town in Arizona. Castiel had never been a social person, but his few friends at school were quite sure that they didn’t mind. Daphne had even taken him out during Happy Hour to a gay club, fake IDs and all of that in place - but tried to make a move on him at the end of it, which sort of ruined it all. His family had been neutral, mostly. There was a gay cousin somewhere in the South too, and a lesbian aunt - but she was single and forty, so it was like she didn’t even count. His mother had never given him the unconditional-love speech, which he maybe was kind of looking forward to, not even after she’d had time to process the information - but she’d learned to rein in the get-married-someday jokes, though Castiel didn’t see how those two things were linked. His brother, Uriel once gifted him some makeup for his birthday, and Castiel tried to tell him that he didn’t  _ have  _ to start wearing glossy lipstick and blush, just because he liked higher testosterone levels than Uriel did in a partner. Or was especially inclined towards it.

It had been difficult for his brother to understand that, somehow, and he’d had no idea why Castiel wasn’t happy about the birthday gift which was surely the most  _ accepting  _ gesture he’d ever received, since he wasn’t straight anymore. 

All in all, Castiel knew he hadn’t had a bad childhood. People around him hadn’t been LGBTQ-friendly, as much as they were LGBTQ-tolerating. It irked him, but he knew he couldn’t complain, because as far as coming out in a mostly Christian family at eighteen goes, he’s had an alright time. People have a  _ lot  _ worse. 

Castiel takes another sip, and it’s bad enough that he winces. It’s not even hot anymore. He doesn’t know how the cafe people do it, maybe it’s got something to do it how horrible it tastes - but it takes a minute of inattention to be as stale as if it were left out for a day. 

He resumes reading - there’s not that much left, though. The large title takes up a lot of space, but Castiel appreciates the genius in having something so striking. Skimming through lets him know how it’s about a rally of sorts. He spots the words, ‘mass kissing’ in bold letters, and sighs his way into a smile. It doesn’t take him much longer to get the gist. 

Their university doesn’t have pride parades exactly, but if they did, it would probably be similar to what the student body is organizing. There’s a paragraph in relatively tiny font about  _ how  _ this came up - and there follows a witty limerick, titled “The Cishet White Man(™)”, which makes Castiel snort - and it is a vaguely pointed way to gesture at the ridiculous group, who’ve been taking to megaphones and whatnot, and spewing homophobic crap outside the cafeteria lately. When you move out of a ‘neutral’ place, to an actually supportive city - the change is noticeable, and pleasant. But that’s when you realize, that where’s there supporters, there’s opposers too.

Like many other elements of his life - exhibit, the coffee - Castiel has tuned it out but it’s happening even now. If he paid attention, which he won’t, because they’re not fucking worth it - but if he did, he knows he’s just going to flare. Their comments aren’t directed to anybody in particular, and Cas knows that very few (read, none) knew that he was gay, so it’s not like they’re shouting particularly to him - but the things they say still hurt. Even if he wasn’t gay, it would. 

You don't just say that people’s identities are a lie. You don't just up and do it - you don't tell people who’re gay to be  _ normal  _ instead, or any of the other crap they say.  _ Any  _ of it. That is just so -

Castiel takes another sip, before remembering how he’d already decided to abandon the rest of it after his last sip. Oh,  _ fuck  _ all homophobes.

He, once again, begins to read and he’s on the last line now. The date is the same one as Castiel’s watch shows, today.  _ Oh _ . For the venue, there’s an ominous ‘EVERYWHERE’, and ‘outside the cafeteria’ scribbled in much smaller handwriting, in parentheses next to it. The writer is  _ wonderful _ . Castiel does appreciate the humor, but it could also be the fact that he isn’t subjected to many things funny in his daily life, so he’s basically chuckling at the cliched mediocre joke, when someone slips across him. 

Castiel sits alone for lunch on Fridays - because Dean has that new English class he’s had to take up this semester, so he usually chooses the table in the corner - a cramped, little table-for-two. So, when a guy suddenly lands across him, it is reasonable for him to jump a little - clutching the flier tight in his fist, as he does.

When the latter leans in obviously, to check out the poster in Castiel’s hand, Castiel uses the slot of time to process that Balthazar Roche is sitting in front of him. He doesn’t know Balthazar well, or even at all - just by reputation, and a little because of curiosity. Balthazar stays on his floor too, but so do another 28 guys, so that’s nothing. They share no classes, either. In fact, he’s almost sure Balthazar has no idea who he is. 

But Balthazar is just this  _ person  _ \- who’s  _ everything  _ that Castiel is not. Castiel has a Business Major, and not because that’s where his passions lie, but because he wanted to obey at least something his mother asked, in return for being allowed to be gay - in a weird, twisted logic, for which he’ll probably need therapy later. Balthazar studies Drama, and Arts, and Music and all these fascinating subjects - which leaves him in awe. Castiel has exactly one friend, and that’s only when he counts his roommate - Dean Winchester is great, and they’ve been three years sharing a room, but he’s this incredibly social person, and again, Castiel is not. Balthazar, on the other hand, hosts parties and does flings - and is the opposite of Castiel on the ladder of popularity. For every person who doesn’t know who Castiel is, wants to hang out with Balthazar Roche. 

And, maybe the most important thing, he’s perfectly open about being bisexual - and he doesn’t usually get shit for it, that Castiel knows of, but he’s sure that even if he did, he wouldn’t let it be a big deal. Whereas Castiel seems to have reversed his way back into the closet, kind of. It’s not like he’s hiding his sexuality, but when you don't really  _ go out _ , nobody really knows. 

“That’s  _ our  _ flier,” Balthazar says, and Castiel  _ stops  _ thinking - wonders if he was thinking too loud, before telling himself that’s dumb, and nodding for him to finish. “ _ So _ ? Will we see you there?”

Additionally, Balthazar is all sorts of beautiful. Even now, he’s wearing a dark purple shirt, which fits him perfectly and has the top buttons undone - his blonde hair is gelled, and he’s grinning, easily - carrying himself with a grace, like Castiel wishes he  _ someday  _ can. 

Castiel doesn’t really know what to say to him, because he’s sure been thinking of it extensively, but he’s not thought about attending yet. “Uh.” He supplies, eloquently.

“Right.” Balthazar smiles, and it’s such a teasing smile, but still doesn’t make him feel bad. Maybe numb. Is that bad? “I see.” He cleared his throat. “I changed the venue to ‘Everywhere’, because I could.” He looks at Castiel for a response. “I was in charge of printing.”

“That’s funny.” Castiel honestly tells him.

“Thank you.” Balthazar theatrically sighs. “Stupid Crowley made me write ‘outside the cafeteria’, in a little box bracket, on  _ all  _ of them. I stayed up all  _ night _ .”

“I,” Castiel blinks. “I see.” Balthazar pauses for a moment. His eyes seem keen, and Castiel’s gaze falters under the weight of it, unthinking. When he raises his eyes, Balthazar’s eyes seem to flit up from Castiel’s lips to meet his. Instinctively, his tongue shoots out to wet them. “Did you need something?” He asks.

“Nah, just saw you reading that thing, and you looked so concentrated,” Balthazar grins, and Castiel mirrors it this time. “It was kinda cute. Figured I should come ask you if you were gonna show up, or if all that passion-for-our-cause is just up there.” He gestured to Castiel’s eyes, and Castiel returned to staring at the tabletop as he answered.

He knows it’s not meant to offend, so even though the words are offensive, he doesn’t flinch. “I don't know if I’ll come yet.” he says, and it’s the first ever full sentence he’s ever said in front of this man. Thankfully, he doesn’t look as stunned as he feels. “I suppose I should, and I do want to, but -”

“Scared?”

Castiel recoils. “No!” That’s definitely not it. He respects the “cause” enough to get out there, and if there were banners to hold and flags to hoist, he would be all in. It’s just that there’s mass-kissing mentioned in the itinerary, not very subtly, and he  _ doesn’t  _ -

“I’m sorry.” Comes tumbling from the other man’s lips, easily. He looks guilty, too. “Some people are, and I just - I'm  _ sorry _ .” He waits, but Castiel doesn’t fill the silence. “Well, then what is it?”

Castiel isn’t very sure how he wants to tell Balthazar Roche that he doesn’t have anyone to kiss, so it would just look very lame if he just stood there alone, passionate about the cause, though he may be. Or even if he does, at all.

Balthazar maybe understands that - hopefully not enough to know what a prude Castiel is, but enough to not push. But he isn’t getting out of the seat, so they just stay quiet in an almost amicable silence.

Finally, it’s Balthazar who speaks up. Of course it is. “You must know how much homophobes fucking suck, though.” If Castiel smiles, it’s extremely wry. “Have you ever had to deal with one?”

“As far as life as a gay guy goes, I’ve had a good run. This  _ activity  _ isn’t dedicated to people like me who’ve had it easy.” Castiel says, before he can think about it. It’s not that he wants to not tell Balthazar that he’s into guys - because, honestly, why  _ wouldn’t  _ he - it’s just that he wishes he could’ve framed it better. Or said it better. Because his words might be optimistic even, but his tone is forced.

“Hey,” Balthazar leans on the seat, rolling back his shoulder. “ _ Listen _ to me, Cassie.” Wait, so he knows his name? “How hard we’ve had it isn’t what’s important. Look at me, for fuck’s sake. I was shucked out of my house at sixteen, because the only other option was to go to a fucking conversion camp. I’d have died there  _ too  _ \- most people do, you know - but I’d rather die on the streets, having lived as  _ me,  _ how I wanted it to be - and well, having kissed a  _ real  _ man, instead of just having jerked off to magazines.” Castiel listened, stunned. “But the man I found wasn’t one I wanted to kiss, and  _ thankfully  _ not one who wanted to kiss me either - but he was a grownup with a job and a good heart, and he let me in, till I was educated enough to get the fuck out of the state altogether.  _ Point  _ is, I’ve been beaten up, and cursed for being who I am. But that doesn’t make me any gayer than you.” He paused, and bit his lip. “Though I suppose I  _ am  _ gayer than you, but that’s just because I’m wearing this, and you’re wearing  _ that _ \- who the fuck except lumberjacks wears plaid, anyways? - but we’ll discuss your horrendous tastes some other time.”

“My roommate wears plaid.” Castiel says, wondering instantly why he thought that was the correct thing to say.

“Good for him.” Balthazar throws his head back, but all he does is snicker, yet all of his momentary seriousness disappears. It’s almost like telling such a horrific story didn’t affect him anymore. Shit, that was some kind of  _ brave _ . “And dude, just as me having dealt with worse doesn’t make me a more  _ legitimate  _ member of the community - a homophone  _ not  _ having punched you, is no less than those fuckers out there with megaphones, who we’re fucking going to kiss in  _ front of _ .”

Castiel nods, swallows, and thinks about the part where it sounds like  _ they’re  _ going to kiss. He also thinks about how much sense it makes, what Balthazar says, but then he again thinks about the kiss part, because he’s a terrible human being like that. 

Balthazar pauses, and maybe it’s because he’s noticed how he’s been doing all the talking.

Castiel obviously didn’t mind at all. But he supposes it’s his turn to say something. “I just - I think you’re very good at this.” Did he just say that? Did he just really utter those words, and did he just - 

“At being gay?” Balthazar sounds earnest, for a moment. But he spares Castiel the discomfort, and goes on to add. “Or all the convincing you to join us outside? Because, end of the day, it’s what I’m aiming for.”

Castiel feels a little bit hollow, though that’s just unjustified. “Yes. You’re good at that.”

“Hey, I’ve gotta be.” Balthazar shrugs. “What good is my tragic backstory if I can’t even use it to manipulate every last baby-gay out there to join us?” Castiel’s eyes widen. “Oh, you know? One of the cute, confused kinds.” That’s the second time he’s been called cute, of course he’s counting. “Promise it’s not a bad thing.  _ Not  _ even like me calling you a twink to your face, which certainly isn’t a bad thing, if you ask me, but  _ still _ . Not that.” Castiel nods, and looks down at the tabletop again. What even is this conversation? He isn’t incredibly socially adept, but even he knows this makes for a weird talk.

Balthazar follows his gaze to the coffee. “Guess I should get going. I’m in charge of the music.” He gets up, and Castiel looks up at him, and his charming smile, and the way he looks at him too. “Masters is gonna want to say that she is, but truth is no one trusts her  _ not  _ to put on her dying punk playlist. I gotta go protect the sanctity of the pact that the gays made with Queen.”

“Knight in shining armor, indeed.” Castiel lets out, smiling, and it’s a thoughtless remark, but earns him the most genuine of smiles yet.

“That’s cute.” Does that count? “I’m writing that down someplace.” He grins. And is almost walking away, his hips swaying like he knows Castiel is staring and who is he kidding, he’s  _ got  _ to know - the smitten speechlessness has got to be the most unsubtle Cas has ever been. “Wait, I got off topic again. Run it by me again, Cassie.” He leans inwards like it’s a little secret, and Castiel has never felt this exhilarated about a whisper. “Will I see you there?”

And it’s mostly all of the things he’s just said, that’s sparked Castiel’s hatred against them homophobes even more so - and it’s also the fact that he’s truly excited to at least see this thing now, and also a little bit the singular first-person pronoun which is probably just thrown about absently but he hangs onto it - and whatever it may be, it doesn’t matter, and Castiel nods. 

It’s not a shy nod, though that’s the first thing Dean points out when he launches himself on the seat across Cas noisily, greeting his best friend by dumping all his things on the table and almost spilling Castiel’s worthless coffee.

***

Apparently, the pride activity - Castiel doesn’t know what else to call it, and he’s not calling it The Mass-kissing, because that’s just weird - is enough of a big deal, that Dean’s class gave in early. He tells Castiel that their professor was probably participating too, which Castiel thinks is really very awesome.

They have a mostly uneventful lunch because Castiel is still very distracted, and halfway through, We Will Rock You begins to play, and Castiel smiles at Balthazar’s parting sentence inwardly, and Dean begins to enthusiastically rock his head to it.

“So, they’re actually doing this thing, aren’t they?” Dean grins, though the only particular emotion emanating from him is of hunger as he stuffs the last of his cheeseburger into his mouth. “I mean, it’s badass.”

“It is.” Castiel agrees. He doesn’t know why he says what he says next, or why he says it like that, but he suddenly asks. “Do you  _ suppose  _ we could go check it all out, Dean?”

Dean looks as surprised as Castiel imagined him to, but it’s for a different reason. “What, were you thinking of not going before?”

Castiel ducks his head. 

“That’s just rude, buddy.” But Dean looks far from offended, he just likes teasing Castiel like that. “Know what? I’ll go take care of the bill, and you can head on out? I gotta hit the can anyways, and maybe you can find us a good spot to watch from?”

Castiel’s mouth feels dry, which again, is just unreasonable because  _ of course _ , that’s what they were going to do. “Here’s -” Instead, he pulls out his wallet, digging in to pay Dean for his share, but Dean just grunts his denial, raising his eyebrows at the single cup of coffee Cas had for lunch - again, incredibly horrible, but also cheap. And then Dean goes, and Castiel picks up his trenchcoat, and lets his feet lead him out the door. 

Once he’s out there, it’s clear how loud the music actually is. Under Pressure is playing now, but nobody seems to have a problem jamming out to it - and it’s just a wonderful kind of sight, how many people he sees strewn around the parking lot, all happily doing their thing, and occasionally pausing to enjoy the music or company. Their parts. He sees a barrier made, in the area where the megaphone-jerks usually shout from. But he doesn’t see too many of them though, and his knee-jerk response is to feel satisfied, that all this display of  _ pride  _ has scared most of them off. It’s wonderful. But then he sees the ones who remain, who’re awful and shameless enough to still stand their ground, with their ridiculous posters and slogans, and it irks him to no end.

“Jackasses.” He hears, from behind him, and turns to find Meg looking in the same direction as him. “Every fucking one of them. Bastards.”

Castiel sighs annoyedly, as a means of showing his agreement. He’d said before, that he only had one friend, but that was unfair. He had exactly one and a half. Enter Meg Masters. 

But Meg’s tone picks up, and she smiles up at him. “But that’s not why we’re out here, are we? Look at our side. The fucking  _ colors _ , man. It’s beautiful.”

Castiel lets his eyes run over the entire parking lot. There’s truly so many colors. There’s the people who, like Castiel, decided this was their chance at Pride - and got into the most  _ meaningful  _ outfits they could. He sees people wearing assorts of their flags - and looking so happy in it. He sees the ones who’re waving flags too, and he sees rainbows and balloons. It’s so beautiful.

“I’m so fucking proud of  _ all  _ of us, you feel me?” Meg grits her teeth, as if so much emotion disgruntled her. 

And then Castiel looks a little clearer at the faces, and he sees so many familiar ones, and he can’t help but smile each time he meets a pair of dancing eyes - everyone smiles back. He sees Dean’s English Professor, Jody Mills with Professor Hanscum - and they’re puttering around in matching suede, taking care of the decorations. He sees Charlie Bradbury, who he knows from Dean’s parties, and she’s standing very close to another really pretty girl, and they’re having a good time trying to make the food table look good, which Castiel is sure isn’t that hard to do. Not that he’s ever been in charge of something like that, mostly because he’s never been important enough. He sees Crowley, and he’s wearing a caricature of his usual clothes, because they’re striped like the trans flag - and he’s probably just practising kissing for the main event, because he’s all over Abaddon, his trans boyfriend. He sees so many people, having such a good time, that the happiness is  _ contagious _ . He doesn’t see Balthazar though, and that’s strange, but Meg’s speaking again, so he turns to listen.

“What about you, Clarence?” Meg smiles. “Come out to have a little bit of fun?” She pauses. “Pun  _ fully  _ intended.”

Castiel smiles back, because he can’t not. “Maybe.”

The song ends, and the next one is Somebody To Love, so probably Balthazar wasn’t joking, before. That’s when Dean walks out too, and Castiel is so engrossed in being a spectator to the scene - he’s surprised when he feels his hand on his shoulder. 

“Dean Winchester.” Meg says, before he does, and it’s just that kind of a greeting, where the name in a particular tone is  _ enough _ . 

“Hey.” Dean doesn’t like Meg at all. Castiel looks at Dean. He’s looking out at the scene like Castiel was, but it’s almost like he’s looking for someone. 

And he finds him easily enough, apparently, because he nudges Castiel and Meg both. “Look!” He goes to point, but then doesn’t - but he’s clearly gesturing at Sam Winchester, with Castiel’s cousin, Gabriel. Of course, they’re there too. They’re basically the most popular couple, ever. Gabriel is dressed in an elaborate outfit, that pronounces the ‘pansexual’ flag to every last bit, and they’re both sporting large sponge middle-fingers on one hand. Sam has a demisexual flag in his hand, and they’re obviously smiling a lot, even from the distance - and Castiel turns around to look at Dean, and he’s clearly beaming. “That’s my brother!” Castiel can’t help but mentally address the tone, suggestive of a proud parent as their child’s graduation. He doesn’t say anything out loud, but continues to stare at Dean, and Dean looks  _ happy _ .

“Are you gonna cry, Winchester?” Meg nudges him back, but her eyes are very kind.

“Shuddup, smartass.” Dean growls at her, and finally wrenches his gaze away.

“While we’re on the topic,” Castiel says, to lighten the mood. “There’s  _ my  _ brother too.”

“Yeah, how weird is that your brothers are bumping uglies, geez.” Meg snorts, and Dean swears at her for ruining the moment, and Castiel looks at her, horrified. “Though I guess it’s the only reason the two of you aren’t, so there’s that.”

Dean frowns at her. “Fuck off, Meg.” Meg just smiles at him. “C’mon, Cas, we’ve gotta get, uh, a good spot, before it crowds up too much?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Meg butts in, eyes only on Castiel. Castiel squirms in her gaze. “ _ You’re _ not going with him, are you?” Castiel is about to affirm to that, but she goes on. “Hell, nah. The view from the ally alley is pretty great, but you’re going to be on this side. You’re coming with  _ me _ , okay? We’re gonna go find Ruby, and then you can join us in the music section, I’m practically the one in charge.”

“No. Balthazar is.” Castiel says quietly, and Meg frowns at him. Castiel doesn’t know why he does it, but he looks at Dean with wide, thoughtful eyes. Turns out Dean’s doing the same thing. Castiel looks back at Meg. “I -”

“I’m going to let that go.” Meg waves her hand dismissively. “But only because today is a good day. Now,  _ come on _ , we have places to be.” She tilts her head towards the rest of the parking lot, and Castiel’s eyes follow it. 

It’s honestly so happy, and so frustratingly inviting.

Dean clears his throat, and Castiel turns to look at him. He almost expects him to say something along the lines of,  _ but you’re not gay _ ,  _ are you _ , but he doesn’t. At all. Instead, Dean just waits till Castiel’s thoughts slow down a little - like he knows what he’s doing - and then asks, all soft and warm. “Cas?”  _ You going with her? _

It should be. It really should be, but it isn’t an easy thing to say. That he really wants to go. He doesn’t even care much about what other people will think - there’s enough amazing folks out there in the crowd, anyways. He knows Dean doesn’t care, at least not in a bad way. He knows he’ll regret it later if he doesn’t. He knows Balthazar’s there, somewhere in that parking lot. He knows he’s gay, and that he isn’t ashamed of it. He knows just enough things to put him on the line, but it’s not enough to push him over.

Or, is it?

The song must’ve ended while they were talking, but the new song starts just now. 

_ I want to break free. _

_ I want to break free! _

Castiel is frozen for a moment. These things don't happen to him. He doesn’t just come across the perfect music, that makes a decision for him - it isn’t a musical, it’s his ridiculously boring life, and this doesn’t just happen! But,  _ bless  _ Balthazar Roche’s heart and his music, it just did. 

“Dean.” Castiel says, earnest. “I  _ think  _ I’ll go check out the music stall.” And it’s obviously not because he remembers Balthazar’s going to be there, but because Meg just mentioned that’s where she’d be taking him. 

And it might be a discreet way to say it, but both the persons present know him well enough to understand. Dean’s lips twitch, hopefully owing to a smile, and he just thumps Castiel on his shoulder with a ‘ _ go ahead’  _ nod. Meg smiles as genuine as Castiel has ever seen her, and it’s so satisfied, that Castiel is almost okay with himself. 

“Don't worry,” Meg teases Dean, still as smug as a Cheshire cat. “I’ll drop him back at your house, when the day’s over.” Castiel opens his mouth to protest against that, because it’s only a very normal distance to walk back to their apartment from the college cafeteria, but Meg goes on. “Not going to disrespect the fact that he  _ was  _ your boyfriend, first.”

Dean grouses. “Don't think demonic-bitch part-two would love hearing you say that, you know.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, and Castiel can’t help but miss the warm grounding weight of his hand on his shoulder, because the space that empties is instantly filled with uncertainties and anxious dread. 

“Look at  _ you  _ caring about  _ Ruby _ , and our thriving lesbian relationship.” Meg shot back, quick as a cannon. “Perv.” She adds, snidely, and Dean glares at her doubly as hard. 

“I don't know how you stand her, buddy. Have a good time.” Dean says, solely to Cas, and Castiel waves at him smally when he leaves the spot. Castiel stares at his retreating figure, wondering if he should stop overthinking lyrics and sentiments, and just go with Dean, and have a pleasant afternoon from the sidelines - but then his eye catches sight of the bright scene again, and he strives to have a good time, now that he’s in it. 

“Please don't tell me you miss him already, lover boy.” Meg whistles, and Castiel shakes his head. He doesn’t know why she keeps making jabs at them like that. Dean is Castiel’s best friend, but he is not  _ into  _ him. Castiel can very much tell. She proceeds to grab his wrist without warning, and setting off. That isn’t comfortable, so Castiel shakes out of the grip till they end up holding hands lightly, and Castiel doesn’t mind it - as long as he has something to squeeze, when he feels that rush of exhilaration, when some glittery confetti spontaneously sprinkles on them as they cross lanes.

***

It’s not that Castiel didn’t anticipate it, but he’s still offended when Meg abandons him, in just a little bit. But she brought him to almost the nucleus of the entire lot, and there’s even more people around him here, so he’s too fascinated in looking around to be upset. Is it strange that he seems to enjoy looking around so much? Probably. But it’s not like he’s got a -

“Cas! Cool seeing  _ you  _ here!” A familiar voice chirps, and Castiel turns to find himself facing Claire Novak. She’s in a pale pink sweater, which has a lipstick print in the middle of it, and a darker pink skirt. Her hair’s pulled up into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a cap which has a wide red and orange stripe each. A little later, Castiel notices the mostly out of place white choker, but that’s exactly when it all clicks in place. That’s another flag themed outfit, if you pay attention. 

Castiel inwardly marvels at how there’s a million different ways to highlight the same concept - all of them brilliant, and instantly thinks of how that’s similar to the vast diversity in the unity of the LGBTQ+ community. “Hey.” He smiles back. Claire’s a freshman. They’ve not hung out much, since college - but she’s also a family friend. In a weirdly distant way, Castiel is her cousin, once removed. “You look nice.”

“Thanks! Kaia made it up.” Claire tells him, proudly. Castiel smiles wider. “She’s  _ so  _ talented, I mean, you should see the stuff she made for Alex! I keep trying to convince her to at least take up design at least  _ one  _ semester.”

“I hope she does.” Castiel tells her, and he means it. 

“And, I keep  _ telling  _ her -” She pauses, midway to being excited, and Castiel raises his eyebrows at her to continue. But she doesn’t, and goes on to fix him with a weird look. “ _ Wait _ a minute. Are you really ‘ _ here’  _ here?”

“I think so, yeah.” Castiel shrugs, trying to look casual. 

Claire spends another minute studying him, but suddenly looks very pleased with whatever conclusion she came to, and springs herself on him, tackling him into a hug. Castiel lets her, wrapping her own hands around her. “Can’t believe it. M’happy for you.”

“Is it really unbelievable?” Castiel jokes, as they separate. 

“No.” Claire looks like she’s thinking about it. “Not really. I don't know, you just didn’t seem very -” Her voice trails off.

“Gay?” Castiel offers.

“Yeah, but just in the being-happy sense.” Claire tells him frankly, and Castiel grins at that. Because Claire just basically told him that he wasn’t exactly happy enough to be gay, though the liking the same sex part was apparently all nailed. Shit, Cas liked her. He should spend more time with these few member

“Thank you, Claire.” 

“S’good.” She repeats, and she’s still smiling very bright. Castiel hasn’t ever received such a reaction before - literally  _ never _ . Dean smiled - at least, Castiel thinks he did - and he got a literal pat on the back, though he doesn’t mind it, because that’s  _ Dean _ . And Meg just really seemed to  _ know _ , and that doesn’t make any sense, but she has got Cas drunk before - it’s almost the only times they’ve spent together, getting wasted after their finals kinda stuff - and Cas knows he can be loose-lipped easily. But this is different. This is a friend, and also sort of family, coming to know for the first time that he’s not straight - and the reaction is splendid. Castiel thinks of it all, and preens. “You having a good time?” She asks, along with Freddie Mercury claiming a good time.

So that’s apparently a regular happening now - music affecting dialogue and decisions. They might as well be in a book. “I am.” Castiel says, truthfully. But doesn’t think, before adding, “Though I’ll probably head back to Dean in a while.” He points a thumb over his shoulder.

“Why?” Claire knows Dean, but she looks shocked. “That’s silly. This is just the buildup, Cas. The best part is not even here yet!”

“I’m having fun,” Castiel insists, and a little more mindful of his words - but since he’s already dug himself the pit, he might as well carefully step into it. “But I don't think I’ll stick around for the ‘best’ bit. I don't even have a boyfriend.”

“Believe me,” Claire begins, with the air of a person who’s going to use a well-tested line. “If having a boyfriend were the criteria for being here,  _ most  _ of us wouldn’t.” She uses the time that Castiel chuckles in response, to turn around and fetch who is probably the before mentioned Kaia. She’s got dark hair, and is dressed unelaborately in a pretty sweater, and jeans. Claire’s got her arm linked in hers. “Kaia, this is Castiel. He’s like my uncle.”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘cousin once removed’!” Castiel chastises her, even as he smiles politely at Claire’s partner, though that just made it sound like he was forty. “I’m not  _ that  _ much older.”

“Shut up,” Claire tells him, cheerfully. “You were saying something about not having a boyfriend, though?”

Castiel doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, because there’s somebody else present too - but he sighs and gets over himself. “Yes. And if you can’t help not making a joke over it, have it this way. I don't have anybody to kiss for the main event.” He manages to make it sound funny enough, that he earns a quiet giggle from Kaia, but he does mean it. 

Claire grins, but in a thoughtful way. Like she’s concerned for Castiel. “You’re not the only one, though. What, you think everyone  _ comes out  _ in pairs?” Castiel snorts at that. “I can bet there’s enough people out here for you.” She smirks a little. “No offense, but this might be the easiest way you could pick someone up, and not mess it up, because everyone wants to have someone to kiss. Especially when it means you get to do it as a fuck-you to  _ those  _ assholes.” Claire glanced only minutely at them, but Kaia was already tugging at her sleeve. Maybe she didn’t want him to swear, which was a little adorable.

“I agree with Claire,” she adds, in a serious tone. “I don't think you should worry about not having someone yet, at all.”

“Good to hear,” He tells him, though he’s still around ninety percent freaking out. But the two girls definitely helped with the ten percent he’s  _ not _ , so he’s obviously grateful.

However, he doesn’t want them to spend their day having to indulge in conversations about Castiel’s patheticity, and such related topics - so he’s the one who excuses himself first. Claire looks like she might hug him again, and Castiel would kind of only welcome it, but then she settles on a very excited wave, and Kaia waves too - and Castiel smiles at them till they’ve mixed into the crowd again. Then he turns to the front, and begins to wander as he was doing in the first place.

He doesn’t do it for long, because all of a sudden, he has another girl in front of him. It’s Dean’s friend, Charlie, who shrieks, “Cas!” When she sees him, holding him to make herself stop as she’s basically rushing past her. Her red hair bounces, as she beams at him - and Castiel smiles back. 

Castiel isn’t sure if it’s to  _ confirm  _ that’s his name, or as a greeting - but anyways, he nods. “Charlie! Hi.” 

She’s the only person who - first thing she does, too - runs her eyes over Castiel, from top to bottom, and then scrunches her nose - probably disgusted. “Dean’s a  _ bad  _ influence.” She just says, instead of pointing out that he isn’t in a costume at all - because a lot of people aren’t. But at least everyone looks  _ nice _ , and then there’s Cas - possibly the only person who didn’t know about this activity till today - in his hoodie.

“No.” He corrects. “I’ve always been like this.”

She sighs dramatically, but it’s all in good humor, because instantly after, she takes off the bag she’s slung over one shoulder, and begins to dig through it. “I’m sure I have something for you, wait.”

If Castiel were just a midge more hopeless, he would’ve asked if Charlie was hiding a guy in there. What was wrong with him? Instead, he aimlessly mutters. “If you find the fashion sense I’m supposed to have, being gay and all, would you hand it over please?”

“You got it, mate.” She tells him, solemnly, not done with her hunt just yet. But then she does find what she was looking for after all, and randomly, Castiel is getting a badge pinned to his hoodie. It says, ‘Look here, Don't fear, did you hear, I’m QUEER’. Castiel has a random moment of thought, whether all of the community is so into incredibly simple rhymes - but he doesn’t voice it, trying to suppress the urge to beam at her as she pins it. 

“Any other badges you want up there?” She asks him, suddenly. “Queer  _ is  _ a pretty word, but it’s a very  _ wide  _ umbrella of identities.” She leans in, with a bright grin. “And you’re a friend, so I’ll even give you two.”

“I’m good, really. Not that people will ask, but I can use my  _ words  _ to tell them I’m gay. But this is very cool.” Castiel says, and means it. He looks down at himself again. Charlie was really very nice. “Thank you.”

“Aw, you’ve got manners! Dean isn’t  _ that  _ bad an influence after all.” Charlie tells him, laughing, and spontaneously produces a rainbow wristband. Castiel wonders how it’s possible to be so nice, but he accepts it - feeling underdressed, as he is, in spite of telling himself it doesn’t matter. 

“I have a rainbow sweater in my bag, too.” She tells him, very seriously. “But I don't think you’ll fit. But if you think you might, here -” She begins to pull out some warm, fuzzy thing but Castiel stops her with a chuckle. 

“Stop dressing me up, Charlie.” He says, grinning so wide, his cheeks hurt. “These are all I need.”

“You can never have enough rainbow merch, my friend.” She throws back, good-naturedly.

“Save it for the next person, who impromptu decides to show up, and needs your superpowers.” Castiel tells her, and he knows it’s a very cheesy thing to say, but she squeals, and he’s proud of himself for it. 

“You’re very -” She begins, and then suddenly pauses mid-sentence. Looking like she’s trying to remember something. Castiel waits, blinking at her. When she looks like she’s finally remembered, she rolls her eyes at herself, and gestures at Castiel. “Come on.” 

“What am I?” Castiel repeats, only half kidding.

“Dreamy.” She tells him, though he knows it’s probably just to end that line of conversation. She holds out her hand, and Castiel stares at it for a minute because he’s not used to it, really, and doesn’t even know her that well, and -  _ so  _ she just takes his hand herself. “Come with me!” She insists.

Castiel, still confused, but not minding it much because Charlie is awesome and he has nothing to do, really - lets himself be pulled along. He takes in the sights around him, which are all awesome, and soon he’s lost sight of Charlie, though he can feel her hand in his - and it’s probably a good idea to hold hands, because Charlie’s taking him through the most crowded area, and it’s honestly a place Castiel would’ve gotten lost. 

For one thing, he’s sure he spots Meg in the crowd - she’s too busy in her girlfriend, who’s perched on one of those drinks tables, and Castiel wonders distantly how she’d ever taken responsibility to ‘get him home’, because she was probably going to leave  _ very  _ soon herself, as far as he’d gotten to see of the two of them. He sees Professor Mills again, and she smiles at him. His eyes fall on the very loud ones, and softer in-the-corner couples, and all in all, there’s just too many people to look at, and too many things to see, and Castiel lets himself be pulled, as he absorbs the sights for more pondering later. 

Castiel is too busy in his head to notice, but they get to a clearer region. Also, the music gets louder.

Charlie stops, with a triumphant smirk, in front of none other than Balthazar - who hasn’t seen them yet. Castiel can’t help letting his eyes run over his figure. There’s a completely unobvious tiara on his silver blonde head, and he’s now wearing a sash which says ‘I organized this shit: SOME RESPECT PLEASE’ - because apparently everybody associated with this thing had a great sense of humor. 

He tries to keep a straight face, as Charlie flicks Balthazar for his attention. “Isn’t he the one you were looking for?” She sings, and glances back in Castiel’s direction.

Instantly, Castiel assumes she’s speaking to him. A kind of panic settles on him - how had she known? They’d not said a single word about it, and then Charlie had brought him here to Balthazar? Was she just this intuitive, or was Castiel  _ that  _ obvious? Hurriedly, almost stumbling over his words, but trying to sound  _ normal-  _ he lets out,  _ ‘No _ ! Why would I -”

“Oh,” Balthazar cuts him off, perhaps not having heard him. “ _ Yes _ , I was!” He patted Charlie, with a smiling nod as if to thank her, which she took as a cue to leave. He turns by a few degrees to face Castiel completely. Castiel tries not to blank out completely, what with Balthazar having been looking for  _ him _ , and now all of his attention focused right on his face. “Hello, there. You made it.” The latter grins. 

“Uh.” Castiel says eloquently. “I did.”

“You know what? I’m gonna trust Meg for fucking  _ once _ .” Balthazar says, mostly in manner of planning out loud, and turns around with a few instructions for the other people in the music region. Castiel doesn’t really listen, he’s too busy studying Balthazar’s newly acquired tiara, which he’s meaning to ask about soon, but doesn’t know how. “Alright. It’s been dealt with. Now, we should get walking.” He holds out his hand too, and Castiel, for the third time that day, stares down at a hand, wondering what he should do. “I feel responsible for your presence here, so I’m gonna make sure you have a hell of a good time. Come  _ with _ , Cassie. I’ll show you around.” He winks, voice as if he’d just offered to take him to the stars, and not around the parking lot of their university. 

Castiel’s face heats up, though he hopes it doesn’t show. He takes the hand - absolutely doesn’t  _ grab  _ it, that would make no sense at all, he calmly holds it is all he does - and Balthazar shifts his a little bit so their figures are entwined in a more comfortable way. For some reason, Castiel has held hands  _ more  _ today than he usually does in a month. But this has got to the best it’s ever felt. And he has no idea why.

“Your turn to speak, Cassie.” Balthazar mutters, when they’ve begun to stroll. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Of course.” Castiel turns to him, almost fully, though he doesn’t let go of his hand. “Did you know my name is actually  _ Castiel _ ?” Balthazar barked a laugh, and Castiel doesn’t get to know the answer to his question.

*

Thing is, Balthazar knows a lot of things. And a lot of people.

As they walk around, he points people out, and tells Castiel stories which make him laugh. Castiel genuinely enjoys listening to him, and doesn’t even have to do much to reply - the conversation just flows. They avoid topics which might ruin their happy dispositions, and don't speak at all about the admittedly few homophobes jeering as they walk past them, holding hands. But they talk about happier things. Such as the history of the LGBTQ+ community in the city, which Balthazar happens to know a lot about. Occasionally, Balthazar cuts himself in the middle of a thoughtful philosophical comment, to tell Castiel truly obnoxious things, like how he once found Crowley and Abaddon getting it on in the hallway, and rang the fire alarm to get them to freak. It’s just the way Balthazar tells stories - Castiel laughs loud enough for passerby to look at him weird.

When they pass by Gabriel, Balthazar excuses himself from Castiel to yell, “Hey, stupid-face!” He gets dealt a, “Hey, stupid-name!” With Gabriel deliberately shoving his huge, sponge middle-finger (football stadium style) at him. Balthazar just cackles, and flips him off himself. 

“Nobody really knows how Gabriel - our resident  _ ugly,  _ really - managed to land  _ Sam fucking Winchester _ .” Balthazar tells him, randomly, dramatic enough for Gabriel to catch. “I mean, one ten to another,” Castiel resists the urge to choke. “Gabe is just too basic. His only winning quality is the company he keeps.”

Castiel stifles his laugh, when Gabriel tries to tell Balthazar to fuck off like the Gellers did, in Friends - but with his giant sponge hands, it just looks strange, and like he’s trying to scare off birds, and Balthazar just laughs some more. 

By the time they’re out of earshot, Balthazar tells Castiel more. “This  _ whole  _ shebang started off in his brain. Was initially just supposed to be a few people, then we decided to make it bigger. Gabriel almost threatened to call the whole thing off when Professor Mills absolutely denied him permission to dress Sam up as a Straight Person and sit on his shoulders all afternoon, preaching things about hierarchy. She did manage to stop that, too hostile and all that, but the sponge birdies were here impressively soon, and  _ that  _ she couldn’t prevent. You should’ve seen their  _ other  _ other costume idea though...” 

Castiel keeps listening with a smile.

*

It is not very long after, that the music is paused, and all eyes turn to where Gabriel is standing on a table, holding a megaphone, and yelling about how it’s only ten minutes to the main event. Castiel doesn’t know what to do with the information, and Balthazar uses the opportunity to fake-throw clods of dirt at Gabriel, so he can’t ask him, either. Castiel’s eyes wander, once more, and he spots Sam Winchester grinning at him, with a twinkle in his eye. Castiel is stunned, but manages to wave back, and receives,  _ ‘Boys _ , am I right?’ stage-whispered with a wink, gesturing to where Gabriel and Balthazar have managed to make a nicely filthy mess of themself. Sam goes on to pick them apart, while Castiel looks with awe at how violently they try to soil each other. 

When Balthazar comes back to Castiel, he’s way more messed up, but it’s kind of cute. “You should see the other guy.” He tells him, beaming.

“I did.” Castiel consoles him.

“Yeah, and I look so much better, I know, right?” Balthazar adds, and earns himself a grin. The music starts playing once more, and of course -  _ of fucking course _ , it’s Somebody To Love. Castiel didn’t notice when, but they were holding hands again - it had to have happened when Castiel was busy ogling the fair bit of dust he’d gotten in his hair, turning it strangely browner. 

But he does notice, when all at once, Balthazar swipes his thumb along the skin of Castiel’s hand, and sends a shiver up his spine. As if that’s just something, somebody can  _ do _ . Reflexively, and not at all on purpose, Castiel had pulled his hand away - and was now heating up, thinking of how he could put it back there in Balthazar’s hand, because that had left him feeling tingly, in a weird but good way. 

“Okay.” Balthazar clears his throat, and that’s when Castiel realizes that he’s not the only one in the situation. Which is a weird thing to realize, but he does, all the same. He looks at Balthazar staring at Castiel’s hand, and his own - and then he looks at Balthazar raising his eyes to meet Castiel’s, unsure. Crap, that had to have sent  _ mixed  _ signals. “So, you  _ don't  _ want me doing that, then?”

Castiel opens his mouth to reply, or at least shake his head as frantic as he felt, but Balthazar wasn’t done. “Because,  _ honesty  _ is a virtue, so I’m letting you know - I was hoping to get a little ahead of that, later this afternoon.” If it is possible, Castiel turns even redder. “Right, I heard that, and no. Not like that. Wouldn’t  _ mind _ , really, but again, not later this afternoon, you know.” He sighs, and Castiel thinks he’s going to faint if this conversation lasts any longer. “I just - I  _ thought  _ we would - I mean, we  _ could -  _ kiss.”

He’s so frozen, it is not even amusing. Not even to the really sadistic part of his brain, who enjoys his discomfort on a regular basis - no part of him likes this, except for the bit that  _ he  _ loves it. This is happening. He’s going to spend so long dissecting this later. Not going to get any sleep, for so many nights that week - but now is the time to act. To respond, and to absorb it completely for the future, and to just  _ seize  _ the moment. So, he does. 

“Okay.”

“Really?” Balthazar gives him a look, but it’s followed by a breathless chuckle of what sounds strangely like relief. “No waltzing into my arms, no breaking into song? Just an  _ ‘okay’ _ ?”

“Life isn’t a musical.” Castiel shrugs, wondering why the excitement that’s brimming over in his heart isn’t spilling out. Thankfully, Balthazar doesn’t find it completely pathetic, and grins. 

“Unless you make it one.”

“Okay, then. Make me.” Castiel says, and wonders instantly why he ever said that.

Balthazar laughs out loud - honest to god, throws his head back, and laughs like that is actually something Castiel meant to say out loud, or like he’s actually funny. “You want me to make you dance? Tug on your sleeve, till you agree to dip - and hold my finger in the air till you agree to take it and twirl?”

Castiel snorts.

“Because I  _ will  _ do it.” Balthazar ends, still recovering from the fits of laughter. “Too bad I didn’t wear my Yule dress robes, huh?”

“How does it even work?” Castiel finally asks, tired of holding it in. Balthazar raises his eyebrows, because that’s sudden, but he needs to  _ know _ . “There’s a  _ countdown _ , and then everybody kisses everybody at zero?”

“You should’ve been on the script-writing, for the handouts.” Balthazar tells him, and he accepts it like a compliment. “And, to be completely serious? Yeah. That’s pretty much accurate. And now, that we’ve gotten it out in the clear that I was only taking you around the lot for my selfish ulterior motives, we should go get a good spot.” To  _ kiss _ . A good spot to  _ kiss _ . What was Castiel’s life, and how did he land in the middle of it? “I mean, we’re both beautiful people, and kinda owe it to the universe to kiss closer to the  _ front _ .” Balthazar added, pulling at his hand. 

And that might have been when Balthazar managed to completely shake him out of his reverie - this happy, tingly bubble he was in, where there’s good music, and good people, and  _ kisses  _ \- and back to the world where Castiel was  _ Castiel _ , and hadn’t kissed anyone in a significant duration, and this was Balthazar, and he was  _ Balthazar _ , and he was - 

Castiel could almost picture how it’ll all come crumbling down. Just as he unraveled to pieces, he could see the picture forming, and then breaking, and then the worst parts, and all of it just -

It was too much. And Castiel hadn’t even realized, but he was hyperventilating, and Balthazar had his other hand on his shoulder, looking tensed. They were the same height, and their faces were so close, and Castiel had no idea  _ how  _ he would -

“Hey.” Balthazar’s accent-laced voice cut into the forming stages of his panic attack. “ _ Hey _ . Take a deep breath.”

And Castiel does. He doesn’t have to do it literally, or  _ follow _ , for that matter - but he does. He lets his chest heave, as oxygen fills his lungs - and maybe that is fucking it. There wasn’t enough oxygenated blood going to his brain, and now it is, because Castiel sees Balthazar in front of him when he opens his eyes, and he exhales deeply, and the blond is all he can see and think of, and it is a feeling unlike anything he’s ever felt. 

“I’m fine.” He placates, but he means it, too. He’s almost numb, but not in the terrifying way that precedes an outrage. He’s calming down. Just as quickly as it’d escalated, it’s coming down - his irrational panic, as he soothes out his thoughts; tries to slow them down, too, and all that’s brought him back is a clear, deep breath, a warm hand on his shoulder, and the proximity to an unfairly charming man, with rich blue eyes. “I’m  _ fine _ .” 

“Yeah, I know,” Balthazar jokes. “I just wanted to check how long you can hold your breath. You know,” And then with the worst exaggerated wink he’s ever seen, “For science.”

  
  


And that, again, is the snapping of those last chords which held him in place. With a forwards jerk, that’s not entirely planned, Castiel is pushing into Balthazar’s space, and is being held up by hands on his waist, and he uses the moment to close the gap - because Balthazar is right there, and he’s wonderful, and Castiel  _ wants  _ to do it - and their lips slot together perfectly, and Castiel hums as he closes his eyes, and straightens his weight off of the other man - only to be pulled in closer, by hands wrapped around his middle. Balthazar is an enthusiastic kisser, and he moves tenderly, yet spirited - like he knows exactly how Castiel needs him to be, and it’s perfect. 

Pulling back, licking his lips instinctively, to chase the taste of a first kiss - Castiel looks hotly at Balthazar. “I -”

“Oh, you two! The countdown is remaining!” Came a shout from the side, and suddenly, Balthazar is being swatted away by Gabriel, even as he shrieks with laughter. Castiel looks on, forlorn, while Balthazar begins to fight back. “Stay away from my l’il brother till the occasion fucking  _ needs  _ you to tongue-fuck, or so help me, Anpanman -” Gabriel cackles, clearly enjoying every bit of the harrassing, while Balthazar shoves him away. 

“Get away from me, you fucking weirdo!” Balthazar swears, and everyone around is clearly having a good time. “I was in the  _ middle  _ of something, get  _ off  _ of me, I  _ want  _ to -” And Castiel laughs too, because what else is he supposed to do, and tries to tell Balthazar over the chaos, that they could wait till the countdown after all - considering the fact that it’d take longer to get rid of Gabriel. 

And in some weird, understandable way - the day is  _ absolutely  _ perfect. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it, dear beans o' the fandom! Do leave a comment, if you would ~
> 
> Have a great rest-of-the-day, and KEEP IT SAILING!


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